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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23196859">Meet Me on the Battlefield</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunted_Moonlight/pseuds/Haunted_Moonlight'>Haunted_Moonlight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Devil's Deal [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, kickthepj</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Also no Hetalia knowledge is necessary, Also this is going to be much shorter guys I swear, And Arthur is in there, And a magical young PJ, And goes a bit into PJ's backstory for this universe, But just a short spinoff that happens way before the main events of the trilogy, But that's also kinda my jam in these stories so be ready to learn, Heavy heaping of British history in this thing, It's really more so heavy inspiration in this case, Just a handful of chapters at most, Kinda gives a better understanding of the Bound, Like 825 AD Battle of Ellandun way before, Pain and brotherhood, Set in the same universe of the Devil's Deal trilogy, So settle in for a tale of violence and death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:54:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23196859</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunted_Moonlight/pseuds/Haunted_Moonlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>September 825. The beginning of the end, when two Bound met on the damp battlefield of Ellandun that misty morn. When swords clashed, when blood spilled, when entire kingdoms fell in ethereal lights. Brothers determined to fight for the people they'd sworn to help and protect, to embody with all their body and soul. Brothers that now stared the other down from separate sides. In the formation of a nation, others must fall...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Devil's Deal [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1060988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a dreary day.</p><p>Overcast, cool, humid. They were getting a break from the rain, at least, but what came down the night before still ended up transforming the ground into churned mud once under the feet of other soldiers and cavalry. The young man opened the flap to the main tent of their fair king, eyes glancing up at the heavy grey sky.</p><p>It was going to rain again, sometime today.</p><p>He watched as the various men scrambled around the camp, beginning to rally to a certain point, moving to get into formation. Today was the big day. The Wessex king, Ecgberht, had become a threat to all of them and an incredible pain in everyone’s ass-</p><p>No.</p><p>Ecgberht was only <em> part </em> of the problem.</p><p>But there was an even bigger driving force behind him, wasn’t there?</p><p>It didn’t just stop at Ecgberht. It was the very <em> will </em> of those within his borders, those that were bound to <em> him </em> and vice versa. The drive, the motivation of Wessex conquering all, never ceasing to encroach on their borders.</p><p>The young man-barely in his early-teens-couldn’t help but frown, raking a hand back through thick brunette waves at the thought.</p><p>When the time came, would he be ready?</p><p>He had to be. Because if he wasn’t, he would only be going down the same path of others that had fallen to the might of Wessex, others like one of the Bound wizards of Dumnonia: buried deep down in a muddy grave.</p><p>He pursed his lips nervously; this wasn’t just some game. They weren’t playing anymore, the Bound of Wessex especially. <em> He </em> had gone so far off the rails-and now <em> he </em> had become a constant threat. There were still others in the family-others to the east, others to the north. Others who had seen the building threat of <em> him </em> and that which he was bound to, who knew that if they didn’t converge to make a stand, they may never get such an opportunity ever again. This included others around his own surrounding region-although after Cumbria, and then after what had happened to Gawen of east Dumnonia (or Devon, as he heard the region starting to be called)-well, last he heard, his brother Cador of west Dumnonia (similarly rechristened Cornwall) had been all out of sorts ever since. Honestly, very few had actually seen him since the incident-some said he wasn’t even alive <em> at all. </em></p><p>He chose not to try and seek him out. Not with so much to do here, not with so much to plan and mediate already. <em> Surely </em> it was more so that and not that he was avoiding the other man, that he currently couldn’t even <em> imagine </em> looking him in the eye after what happened. Of <em> course </em> it wasn’t because he’d failed to see the threat for what it was and would-at this point-be <em> eons </em> too late in extending his hand to help out. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that he himself used to be so close to the man that killed Gawen.</p><p>No.</p><p>Of course it wasn’t that.</p><p>He was really just too <em> busy </em> , he had an <em> army </em> to help manage, others to collaborate with when the situation was looking more and more grim by the second.</p><p>And besides, really: he couldn’t expect to ask too much of the other in his grief.</p><p>“Perceval!”</p><p>The brunette twisted around from the spot he’d plopped down in by one of the dying campfires, glancing back at one of the commanding officers and straightened a bit. “Ah-yes sir!”</p><p>The officer looked him over, unable to hide his skepticism, his hesitation-but their king had made a personal request, who was he to say no?</p><p>“We’re gathering in the field,” the officer informed. “King Beornwulf wants you there, stat.”</p><p>Perceval looked over at him, then nodded. “I’ll be there,” he assured, quickly rising to his feet and tugging on his helmet, then grabbing his weapons before making his way to the field.</p><p>The grassy expanse was filling up quick. He could see young men ranging from two or three years older than him to practically a couple <em> decades </em> older. Or at least, that’s what most of them certainly seemed to think…</p><p>He scratched his neck, pale greenish eyes tracing over the area, studying the other side of the Ellandun field, peering towards the horizon in hopes of getting any form of a handle on just <em> how bad </em> the situation really was and what their odds were. He could already see the rising pillars of smoke from the cookfires that belonged to the other camp-they’d been there for the past few days, at least, impossible to miss. That was one of the most certain conclusions he could make about the enemy camp, having watched them settle at the very bottom of the hill just a ways, the wind tearing through their bright red and yellow banners. But now there were men starting to mill around the brim of their expanse, now well-within view, armed and ready with horses restlessly stirring and pawing at the ground, ready to rush into their certain doom-just like their identical brethren on the enemy side.</p><p>“Perceval!” a voice exclaimed, startling him and drawing his attention to one of the men from his own side coming up behind him. He didn’t look that much older than him, not like the other two of particular mention that he could see hanging just a ways toward the back. They seemed more so into their late teens.</p><p>But this young man-the one who’d spoken to him? The one more or less around his own age, young and probably too much so to really belong here in a place like this, during a <em> time </em> like this? A brother. One of his many siblings.</p><p>One of his brothers who’d arrived-surprisingly-with another brother and even a sister.</p><p>“Sigeberht,” he greeted, eyebrows rising with his surprise. He glanced back up at the two siblings behind him, the two of them talking amongst themselves as they watched from a distance, then back to the young man who stopped just a few feet from them, smiling kindly if not somewhat tiredly. “I wasn’t expecting you to have come here all the way from Essex…” As his eyes strayed back up to the other two, he added a bit more softly, “I wasn’t really expecting anyone else to really come all the way out here, considering the risks. Considering what happened to Gawen and Cador…”</p><p>Sigeberht gave a small shrug and tilted his head slightly to eye the other, a particularly strong breeze whipping through tousled brunette waves that bordered auburn. “You know that if we didn’t come all the way out here,” he pointed out. “We would hardly be doing our job.”</p><p>“Our job is to be mediums and regulators,” Perceval pointed out softly. “Not...you know.” He gestured towards the army. <em> “Soldiers.” </em></p><p>“Perhaps. But our job is to also protect our people no matter what the cost,” Sigeberht pointed out. “Otherwise they get invaded. Everything that makes up what they are, what <em>we are</em>-their mannerisms, their language, their values, their culture, <em> everything </em> will disappear. And we won’t be very long to follow…” Noticing the troubled and almost forlorn look Perceval was giving him, he then cleared his throat and tugged on his cloak a bit. “After all, that <em> is </em> what happened to our parents, right? To Ceridwen and Brennus?”</p><p>“‘Parents’...” Perceval repeated, unable to resist shaking his head slightly as he turned back to look out over the field again. Other than that though, he certainly didn’t seem to argue. “I mean…” He glanced back at Sigeberht over his shoulder. “Probably something like that, yeah.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sigeberht affirmed, stepping up beside him. “Sussex and Kent-” He paused for a moment, clearing his throat again before adding, “<em> Aella- </em> or excuse me, <em> Aelle now- </em> and <em> Eadric </em>, that is-seem to mostly think the same way.”</p><p>Perceval couldn’t help but sneak a look at Aelle in particular, lowering his voice further.</p><p>“She managed to convince her leader to allow her to fight?”</p><p>Sigeberht’s green eyes followed his gaze before remarking, “Woe be it to the entity-be it man, woman, or Bound-that attempts to get in her way and stop her. She is...<em> very </em> determined to stop Arthur in his tracks before he can become an immediate threat to her own personal borders.” He dared to make a tiny vague gesture in her direction, adding, “Besides, if you ask me? I think she did a rather good job disguising her appearance. Perhaps a bit too pretty to be taken seriously as a male soldier or even a man in general of course-but if that were the case, you wouldn’t be here either, would you?”</p><p>Perceval gave the other's shoulder a small, playful shove. “Shush,” he murmured, giving a small shake of his head and-for what felt like the first time in ages-allowing the tiniest ghost of a smile to spread across his face. The other grinned widely, reaching over to ruffle his hair as his victim attempted to grapple and keep the hand away while laughing. “Hey-stop it-cut it out-!”</p><p>“Surrender to the great land of Essex and perhaps we shall talk-”</p><p>“Oh, is that what this is all about? A surprise invasion?” Perceval chuckled, drawing a laugh from the other.</p><p>“It’s whatever you want it to be, brother,” Sigeberht teased. “At least <em> for now. </em>”</p><p>Perceval rolled his eyes but stopped when he saw their two older siblings approach. Probably between sixteen and eighteen years of age-in appearance, at least-Eadric stood strong and tall, eyes hazel with a splash of green that almost matched their’s, but hair a bit more of a strawberry blond, looking out at the other end of the field like Perceval had been only moments ago. Though he was quiet, it was more of a distracted sort of quiet, a deep, pensive concern about what the next several hours would bring.</p><p>Aelle meanwhile watched the two younger boys with an expression that was wholly unimpressed, cinnamon freckles scattered across her pale face and green eyes piercing. Sandy blond hair that was chopped uneven at the edges-recently, from the looks of it-now reached almost shoulder-length and was toyed at by the breeze of the coming storm. “Is this all of us?” she asked, casting a glance to their own gathering armies. “Considering the overall state of things, the threat that this has become...I would’ve expected <em> more </em> of us to show up. Guin, for instance. Cador, perhaps?”</p><p>“Last I heard, Arthur had managed to push Cador into a corner,” Eadric explained. “And anyway, with Gawen dead-”</p><p>“It didn’t seem to right to push the matter,” Perceval replied softly, his smile disappearing into a light, guilty frown.</p><p>Eadric looked down at Perceval with a small frown of his own, then set a hand on his shoulder to give it a comforting and reassuring squeeze. How much of it was actually felt through the armor, of course, was debatable-but really, it was the thought that counted. “This isn’t your fault, Perceval. At the end of the day, it’s barely even Arthur’s. You know how susceptible we are to the whims of our leaders and our people. It doesn’t matter if you were once true-”</p><p>Perceval grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to will the reminder away. “Nevermind about that,” he interrupted. “It’s just- It’s Dumnonia. I should’ve reached out to Gawen and Cador. I should’ve lent them a hand, regardless of the relationship between Arthur and I.”</p><p>“We had no idea at the time; all of our eyes were directed towards Edwin up in Northumbria.” The taller man straightened back up with a small sigh. “Enemies are beginning to press in on all sides. Even from those we once thought we could trust. This is beginning to remind me of the Roman invasions all over again…”</p><p>“<em> Ha </em> , you’re one to talk, <em> Kent </em>, considering how well you got along with the Romans and the intermingling of your people and theirs,” Sigeberht chuckled softly.</p><p>Eadric seemed unphased; in fact, he even cracked a tiny grin. “More so that I was waving them goodbye,” he countered.</p><p>“Right, right. I forgot, you were already leaving their stuff out on the lawn to make room for your pagan fellows-”</p><p>“What can I say? The Saxons may be pagans, but at least they’re not Picts.”</p><p>Aelle remained silent through it all, eyes fixed on the gathering of their troops. But this silence was broken when she finally cleared her throat, gesturing towards the amassed armies. “We’re nearing time-” Her statement was affirmed as the sound of instruments cut through the low pressure of the overcast day, reaching far and wide in a summons to gather. “That’s the signal. Our commanders are waiting.”</p><p>“Ruining a good party as always, Aella,” Sigeberht sighed, shaking his head as he began to trudge back to the crowd.</p><p>“More so just a better soldier,” Aelle pointed out.</p><p>“Somehow.”</p><p>The group meandered back over towards their respective gathered troops, Sigeberht taking a moment to pause and turn back to Perceval. “Hey. Perceval, hey. I know this is going to be rough: even if we win-<em> and we will- </em> it’s still going to feel like a loss... <em> especially </em> to you, all things considering.” He held out a hand. “After all this, we’ll deal with it together-with at least the ounce of solemnity required as everyone else rejoices. Pints on me, alright?”</p><p>Perceval blinked, staring at the hand for a moment in surprise, but then managed to crack a small, suddenly-weak smile. “You’re the last person I should be talking to about solemnity. Don’t make promises you can’t keep-”</p><p>“I’ll keep it, I swear! Even if it's for your brother or not, Gawen deserves proper mourning as well. We’ll get Eadric and Aella in on it...they’re much better at bringing a bit more seriousness to the mood, if nothing else.”</p><p>“Pints on you for them as well?” Perceval suggested, grin widening just a fraction more at the slight fall in the other’s expression. “...I’ll see if I can talk them into going easy on you.” He grasped the other’s hand in pact. “Alright. It’s a deal. I’ll see you when the battle is done.”</p><p>Sigeberht’s grin returned in full as he tightened the grip for a moment and nodded. “Yeah.” He released the other’s hand, walking backwards with a small wave. “When the battle is done. Best of luck.”</p><p>And with that, he turned, running into the crowd to meet up with a commander who was no doubt waning in patience.</p><p>Perceval drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trusting his own feet to guide him to his own leader, King Beornwulf, as his mind was racing too much to be fully trusted on its own.</p><p>It was going to rain today.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys! So just as the tags suggest, this is a short little fic set in the same universe as the Devil's Deal trilogy. It's set significantly before the main events of even the prequel and doesn't get too much into the main storyline of the trilogy, but it does still give a bit of added insight for who and what the Bound are as well as some of PJ's backstory and overall situation in current events. I'm not expecting it to be too long-no more than three to five chapters max-so don't worry, this isn't about to go into an extra super-long epic. But I wanted to get one of these ideas that's been tumbling around in my head out for a while and seeing as everyone's mostly on lockdown and I'm still working on editing the next chapter of The Shattered Mirror, this seems just as good a chance as any to start posting it. Also special shout-out to my beta-reader, Syd, for letting me borrow a couple of her characters (Cador and Gawen), even if it's only in mention. So hang in there, wash your hands, stay indoors if you can, and enjoy the fic! I'll be seeing you all either in the next chapter to this or The Shattered Mirror, so keep your eyes peeled! Until then~!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Perceval joined in the dispersion of his own personal group, making his way across the battlefield with quick, purposeful strides as he tugged on his helmet. Reaching his king, he met eyes and offered a bow. He pulled his vision back up as a squire came running up with sword and shield, the weaponry he would need for the charge. He sucked in a deep breath, making a conscious effort to not let it get caught in his throat. He was struggling to keep nightmare images out of his mind, thoughts of the Bound of Wessex being lethally impaled on a sword. It was a nightmare that had haunted him, a fear of this happening to either of them with each and every encounter of a new enemy-and now </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> might be the one to fulfill all of that and turn it into a reality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perceval,” King Beornwulf spoke up as the squire hurried to finish equipping the Bound of Mercia. “I’d like to have a quick word. Preferably in private.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceval looked over with wide eyes before nodding and quickly hurrying over as soon as he was possibly able. It wasn’t too difficult, the king had gone just a few yards forward on his horse, leaving all others behind. He reached the king’s side in no time, looking up at him curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Highness?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to review your mission before all of this got started. I probably don’t even need to. I imagine the rest of your kind that are fighting alongside us are all on the same page. But you’re young. You’re compromised. I wanted to make sure you remembered what you needed to do.”</span>
</p><p> <span>“Avoid any public show of magic as much as humanly possible-”</span></p><p>
  <span>“The other part of your mission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Focus on the Bound of Wessex exclusively, Sir.,” Perceval replied automatically in a tone of highest respect. “Ignore all others, leave them to you and the other men. Arthur Kirkland is my sole target.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you will seek him out, you will end the Wessex threat, and you enforce the will of the honorable Mercian people,” Beornwulf emphasized. “I know it will be difficult, Perceval. Especially considering your own personal circumstances. But representation and protection of the people and region of Mercia, the very ones you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>bound</span>
  </em>
  <span> to: this is who and what you are, </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> you are by definition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceval stiffened a little bit at this. “If I may speak candidly, your Highness,” he said with a note of seriousness tinging his tone. “None of us know why we’re here. We’re just as lost as any other humans, special and normal alike. This is just the closest we’ve been able to surmise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s the path you’ve worked out amongst yourselves, then it’s the path you need to follow,” Beornwulf replied. With a light note of mirth and warmth crossing his eyes, he added, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With all due respect, Sir,” Perceval spoke up. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> older. I’m only a couple years away from being three hundred.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, a happy early three centuries to you, lad,” Beornwulf remarked. “Let’s just hope you live to see it come into fruition-for all of our sakes.” With that said, he signaled back behind him to the rest of the troops, letting them all know he was ready for the forward march. Perceval glanced back at the Mercian army, at the aligning armies of Essex, Sussex, and Kent. He had to squint for a second, but he was almost positive he could pick out his fellow Bound amongst the crowds. As he fell into line from the very front, stationed in close to the king himself, he turned his attention to the Wessex forces. They were beginning to move forward as well, like the pawns to one big chess game. They soon met in the center of this stage on a lawn of green that would soon be slick with red, King Beornwulf being joined by the kings of the three aligning kingdoms as they faced off against King Ecgberht of Wessex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“King Ecgberht!” Beornwulf called. “Before you I stand with the alliances of many, all deeply disturbed by this rampage of yours through the heart of Dumnonia. It is united and uncowed that we make the request for reconsideration on this terror and instability you wreak upon the land. Should you determine to pursue this misguided pursuit, we will not be afraid to bear arms in direct and immediate opposition. It will be violent. It will be bloody. But should you choose such a path, we will not hesitate to forge one of our own through your ranks to end this overtly malicious rule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceval watched as his king sent out his warning to the other side, hoping against hope that the </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> slim possibility might happen and that there wouldn’t end up being a fight after all. But he knew better than that. So instead he half-tuned out the empty pre-battle banter and negotiations, instead choosing to focus all of his attention in letting his eyes sweep the battlefield for the Bound wizard of Wessex, Arthur Kirkland. Even with everyone's heads equipped with helmets, it still didn’t take long to see the other, to pinpoint him similarly close to his own king.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d recognize those green eyes and bushy eyebrows anywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gazes of the two locked and Perceval could feel his heart suddenly drop, his limbs feeling heavy. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> the other was going to be here, </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> There would be no way Arthur was going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>miss</span>
  </em>
  <span> this, and yet-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet he had desperately hoped that the other wouldn’t be here at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That today wouldn’t be the day he would have to bear witness Arthur dying, more than likely by his own hand no less.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shifted uncomfortably, waiting anxiously for all the false negotiations and posturing to just be over and done with, for them to just get on with it already. He’d rather not have to dwell on this before doing the deed; he felt the longer he would, the less likely he’d actually be able to go through with it. And besides, all of this talk was going to lead to nothing. Neither side was going to back down. Ecghbert was determined to push on forward, to dominate everything he could get his hands on, and Beornwulf and his comrades were desperate to keep that from happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So were his other siblings, technically. But they were only higher-end pawns in the greater game, all serving their kings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyway, he could see for certain that there was no chance of Ecghbert backing down. If not in the way his overall army carried itself, battle-hardened and ready, impatient to move on into a charge, if not by Ecghbert himself and all that confidence that he carried in his voice-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If not by any of those things, then by the steeled, unflinching determination that he could see on Arthur’s face, as the other pulled his eyes away to count just how many other Bound he was going to be dealing with this day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceval sucked in a breath, glancing anxiously up at his king, who held a serious but unsurprised expression on his face. The horse was pawing a bit at the ground. They all seemed </span>
  <em>
    <span>ready to go</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and when he saw the opposing army turn to back away a bit, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> with heart sinking further that it wasn’t at all for a retreat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They did similar, gearing up, finalizing their formations as he could hear shouts on the wind from the commanding officers, directing and giving some final orders in strategy. He stole a look back over to Sieghbert, who gave a small, encouraging smile and wave before straightening back up again-although even </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> couldn’t hide the nerves that weighed heavy on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few shouts from the kings in the front drew their attention, a rush of energy sweeping through the troops as they shifted restlessly, all grasping at their shields and weapons, all moving into position to surge forward in charge at the risk of being trampled otherwise. Perceval however stilled for just one moment, gently closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath, expanding his senses to feel-</span>
  <em>
    <span>really feel</span>
  </em>
  <span>-his people and the leyline system that flowed through them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a reminder of why he was even there at all, of why </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> of his Bound brethren were there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of it was for them</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes snapped open as he heard Beornwulf shout his charge, as people began to race forward with sword and shield and spear. He was among them, taking a few uncertain steps before he was suddenly charging forward as well, weighed down by the armor, slowed by the slick grass and mud under foot. But it wasn’t enough to stop him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t enough to stop the opposing army, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two sides met with a violent clash and immediately it was a picture of hell on earth. The air rang with bloodthirsty shrieks, cries of pain and death, the clashing of metal. Everything was a flash of red, iron, and steel, all blurring together in a dizzying spin of action. There was no order to any of this chaos, no way of making sense of anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Find Arthur. Put a stop to this madness. Avoid all others at all cost-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Easier said than done. There was no avoiding anyone else, no navigating a clear path. Just doing one's best to force their way through, victims be damned-for the moment, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All there was was violent survival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perceval!” he heard someone shout. He glanced to his right in its direction, could see Eadric jerk his head upwards in a gesture towards the sky. He quickly followed his gaze, eyes widening and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>barely</span>
  </em>
  <span> managing to put his shield up in time to block the rain of arrows that came down in a rapid thud. He looked back over towards Eadric to make sure he had done the same, and was relieved to see that not only had he managed to protect himself with his shield, but also Aelle by pulling her in close. The woman looked at him with a small nod-a silent exchange of thanks-before pulling away and taking several paces back as she nocked arrows on her bow and fired them off as silent, deadly missiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette only had the time to let out an exhale of relief; he barely missed the sword that swung towards him. In rapid reflex of centuries’ practice, he quickly brought his sword around to parry, to knock the sword away as he leapt back and swiftly sidestepped in an evasive maneuver, bringing the sword in quickly to stab through the warrior. Nothing personal. None of this was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was just another war.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gradually he was covered with sweat and mud, gradually he was covered in the sprays of crimson from the felled. He ignored it. It didn’t matter right now, very few things did. Very few things </span>
  <em>
    <span>except</span>
  </em>
  <span> survival. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Except</span>
  </em>
  <span> for protecting his fellow kin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><em>Except</em> for finding Arthur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cut swathes through the opposing army, a slow-forming trail of bodies in his wake. Long left behind was the more quiet, gentle bound wizard he normally was, abandoned to be the hardened warrior his role sometimes required.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Find</span>
    <span> Arthur.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Protect your king.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Protect your people.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Protect your kin.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>This internal mantra was broken as he heard a sudden cry, higher than he would’ve expected from any of the other men out on the field. He looked over to see who had made the sound and was horrified to see Aelle, bent over the blade of a sword. His eyes widened, quickly abandoning whatever personal battle he was engaged in to push through the crowds, to hop over the dead and the dying to try and make it over to his sister.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aelle!” he exclaimed, struggling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wouldn’t die, of course. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> die, not so easily. Not like this. Not by an ordinary human’s hand-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or at least he hoped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hoped she and her people hadn’t been weakened enough to be brought down so easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hoped she would make it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> make it before anything else could make death so much more assured.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hang in there, Aelle,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Play dead if you have to, just hold on-!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She wouldn’t, of course, he knew her too well for that. He’d seen her in action in other battles, other wars. His sister was always the sort to fight until her dying breath, and this case he was sure would be no exception.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His foot caught-not on mud but a body-and sent him tumbling forward, sword flying from his hand. He just barely managed to catch himself with his newly-emptied hand, eyes flickering about rapidly in a quick attempt to relocate his lost weapon. No time. There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so he settled instead on grabbing whatever sword was closest-be it his own or from the fallen. He struggled for a moment as he pushed himself up, feet slipping and sliding in the mud and deep red puddles that the ground soaked up just as eagerly as it did the rain. When he finally righted himself, he quickly continued on his journey, single-minded, determined-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was when he saw Eadric go down several meters off from Aelle, knocked back as someone still on horseback rammed a sword clear through his chest and left him on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eadric!” he cried, looking from his brother to his sister, uncertain now on who to run to first. “Aelle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Protect your king.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Protect your people.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Protect your ki-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He suddenly found himself hit hard, stumbling, staggering, desperately trying to retain his footing-especially after that last fall he just had. By sheer reflex, his wrist turned, stabbing his sword into the ground to act as a sort of emergency cane. It sank down through the mud, deep into the soft earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grimaced; his head was spinning. Spinning and wouldn’t stop as his body meanwhile seemed to shout at him to get up, to keep on moving, keep on fighting, to get to the others. As he did he twisted around somewhat, trying to get a bearing on whatever the hell just happened, to have an idea of what it was that just hit him-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only to be confronted with a sword.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Green eyes followed the cold steel, tracing their way up the blade and past the hand, up the arm and finally settling to look into the cold matching green of the owner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before his eyes flashed a memory of a small hand grasping his while green eyes smiled back at him in an attempt to be reassuring, although just as uncertain as his. That same hand that belonged to the one now holding a sword no doubt meant to take his life. This smiling eyes now dark and cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur’s hand. Arthur's eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared back at the age-matched teenager.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His attacker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His twin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, an ounce of desperation in his voice. “You don’t have to do this,” he pleaded. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>We</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t have to do this. It doesn’t have to end this way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur just stared back at him, moving the sword a little closer. “We both know that isn’t true,” he pointed out, managing to keep his own emotions just a little bit more in check.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceval shook his head. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I know you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Arthur! This isn’t you-!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am a bound wizard,” Arthur snapped. “Just like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceval stared back, letting his gaze soften for the first time since all hell broke loose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m also your brother first,” he replied quietly. “Your only </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> one.” He could see the troubled flicker in his brother’s eyes and took it as encouragement to continue. “When we were bound, we did it together. And we can restabilize the island and fight off any of our enemies together, as well. If we could just have a few more words with your king-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That seemed to snap the other out of any doubts, any reverie. Arthur shook his head, although Perceval could see that he was struggling to keep some of the betraying shine of tears out of his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he hissed. “But that’s just not going to happen. For what it’s worth, Perceval...you really should know better. Our responsibilities as Bound trumps everything else, personal and otherwise; that’s the oath we take, and the oath we must maintain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drew his sword back, positioning himself to stab forward. Perceval’s eyes widened, his grip tightening on his own sword as he struggled to pull it back up from the earth it had been sucked down into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if it helps provide comfort, know that after this, you will be with me always. Just as all our siblings will soon be!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blond lunged forward, stabbing the blade forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No time…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not enough time!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceval grimaced as he could feel the searing pain of the blade piercing his flesh, going into his chest-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But...not all the way through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared wide-eyed down at his wound, at the metal sticking unnaturally into him…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looked up to see a familiar head of tousled auburn hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To see the brother-not so much by blood, but by binding-that was now pinned to him by the brunt of the sword going </span>
  <em>
    <span>through</span>
  </em>
  <span> his chest in what would typically be a fatal blow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sigeberht…” Perceval whispered, voice cracking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You...really need to learn how to treat family better…” Sigeberht whispered, staring directly at Arthur as he breathed ragged breaths. Looking over his shoulder slightly (as one could only </span>
  <em>
    <span>imagine</span>
  </em>
  <span> the sort of pain even the tiniest movement more than likely brought), he asked, “Perceval, you’ve known him the longest. Is this weird to you, or has your brother always been a wanker?” But before Perceval could even formulate a response, he let out a small, pained chuckle and looked back at Arthur. “Don’t answer that. You wouldn’t remember…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As his chest seemed to spasm, he choked, coughing up blood. Arthur didn’t give him the opportunity to sass any further; he reached forward and grabbed his face, hand glowing a forest green under the armor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sigeberht!” Perceval cried, brain in a flailing panic as he struggled on what to do, on how to get off of this sword without injuring Sigeberht further.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your brothers are bound, you idiot!</span>
  </em>
  <span> The logical part of his brain screamed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything you do now isn’t going to hurt him </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>nearly</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> as much as what Arthur is about to do-!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Essex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped back as he heard his twin’s words, staggered, about lost his balance and struggled to regain it as he saw Sigeberht’s body glow with a similar such green magic, as it seemed to drain away from his body and straight into Arthur. He could hear the cries, the haunted muffled screams of the normally joking and playful Bound of Essex, could see the glow of Arthur’s eyes as the life and embodiment of everything Sigeberht now was and ever would be transferred over into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to do something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He <em>wanted</em> to stop Arthur, to help Sigeberht-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But instead he found himself frozen, only to able to watch the scene unfold with a terrified horror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel the jarring force of the leyline shift, the altering flow as it merged with that of Wessex and Dumnonia as a more powerful current than ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t...Wessex anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t anything he was particularly familiar with at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was...something new.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur was becoming something...different entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as Sigeberht was unceremoniously dropped, limply falling to the ground like a puppet with his strings cut. The discarded Bound didn’t move, didn’t breathe, officially joined ranks in the many deceased that lie upon the ground. He could feel his own vision starting to blur, his stance unsteady. Arthur was looking up at him now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both knew he wouldn’t be able to get away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perceval wobbled, Arthur taking a step forward, closer to him. The former collapsed onto his butt while clutching the ragged hole in his chest. One more step, hand and eyes still glowing with that awful green-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two stood in an odd silence as they stared at one another, the world seeming to shift into an odd state of mute, ignoring all the chaos that went on around them. Arthur stood frozen, taking in the sight of his helpless, wide-eyed brother for a span that seemed to stretch on into eternity. Looked down at his glowing hand, then the person just beyond it once more-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And suddenly turned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait…” Perceval whispered, watching as Arthur moved to start heading towards his other fallen siblings instead. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was like time had restarted, like everything was suddenly </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> real again. His vision blurred further, his head spun as he saw people rushing past and blocking his vision and..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started to try and get up again. Realized he couldn't and fell backwards, staring up at the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wondering if it was the last time he was ever going to see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then his eyes slid closed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey everyone, I'm still alive! I hope everybody else is doing well. I've been juggling a few different projects-this being one of them-but I do hope to get the main story back online soon enough. To my understanding, I've heard of a bit of youtube drama...I'm still considering on how I'm going to address this in the main  story going forward, but rest assured, it will and Shattered Mirror will soon be back on track. In the meantime, I have this project and another small one (set in the Victorian period) currently in the works that focuses on the background expansion of this universe and all of its players-and it will all ultimately tie in to modern day in some way or another. I promise this isn't an entire waste of time, just trust me on this! But in the meantime, thank you for your support and encouragement; it really means a lot moving the trilogy and other parts forward! So if you liked it, drop a kudo, drop a comment, and I'll be seeing you all in the next chapter. Until then!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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